Page 148 of The Secrets We Hide
She opened the closet door. The safe was on a shelf in the back. She pushed away her mother’s clothes. Twisted the combination dial to reset it.
“Hold on,” Russell said. “What else is in the safe?”
Jude spun the dial so that the zero lined up to the arrow.
“Wait,” he said.
She turned the dial to the three. Then back to one.
“Goddammit, stop!”
Russell threw Emmy to the floor. He shoved Jude out of the way.
The brain tends to experience tragedies in slow motion. It’s as if a switch is flipping on. Adrenaline floods areas like the amygdala, sending them into hypervigilant mode, allowing a faster response time and detailed memory encoding. In the moment, everything slows down. Colors, sights, sounds—the tiniest details are made more brilliantly alive in order to increase your chances of survival.
This is what Jude saw:
Cole came through the door at a low crouch, gun drawn.
Emmy threw herself in front of him.
Russell swung around with the pistol.
Jude grabbed the Glock out of Russell’s waistband and pulled the trigger again and again until his head had vaporized into a mist of blood and bone.
She heard a clicking noise. This time, it was coming from the Glock. The magazine was empty. She had fired all sixteen rounds. Jude let the weapon fall from her hand. She heard it hit the floor. She looked for her child.
It was only then that Jude’s brain played the sound of Russell’s pistol firing.
Then the switch flipped back, and everything sped up again.
“Jesus!” Emmy clasped her hands to her belly. Blood seeped between her fingers, pooled onto the floor. The bullet had gone in under her vest.
Jude ran to her.
“Mom!” Cole yelled.
“It’s okay.” Emmy staggered back against the wall, but she stayed on her feet. “I’m okay.”
Jude knew that she was lying. “Cole, get a towel from the bathroom.”
Sirens screamed in the distance. Jude lifted off Emmy’s vest. Dropped her belt. The wound was low on the belly. About an inch to the left from center. Stomach. Pancreas. Kidney. Colon.
“Don’t—” Emmy grabbed Jude’s arm. It was the first time Emmy had ever reached for her. “Don’t let my son see me die.”
Jude stroked back her hair. Cupped her hand to her face. “My love, you’re not dying. I didn’t wait forty-two years to lose you.”
Emmy’s lips started to tremble. She closed her eyes.
“Backup is almost here.” Cole ran in with a towel. He wasn’t panicked. He was calm, methodical. “The ambulance is twenty minutes out. We need to drive her to the hospital.”
“No,” Emmy said. “Jude can drive me.”
Cole said, “That’s not gonna happen.”
Jude took advantage of the distraction. She punched the towel directly into Emmy’s wound.
“Jesus!” Emmy hissed.
